Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The Littles were happy on the playground, and Slater grinned at the sound of their laughter.
He was standing nearby with Jackson, drinking a bottle of beer, chatting with Theo and Clyde.
Theo was Grace’s Daddy and was a handsome, strong Black man who looked every bit the former Marine that he was. He even still sported the close-cropped hairstyle.
He was tough, to be sure, but had a heart of gold.
As for Clyde, he was still wearing his mechanic’s coveralls, which was the only outfit Slater could ever remember seeing the man in.
“Man, I read all about that ride up in Guthrie,” Clyde said with a shake of his head. He took a swig from the beer bottle he held and continued. “Over nine seconds. Pretty amazing, if you ask me.”
Slater shifted on his feet and offered a little shrug. “Much obliged. But it’s really no big deal.”
“No big deal?” Clyde snorted. He looked at Theo. “Do you think it’s no big deal?”
“Hell, no!” Theo declared. “The thought of getting on the back of one of those huge things and holding on terrifies me!”
Slater thought of bringing up the fact that the man had been to war and probably knew what real terror was, but he didn’t want to bring up bad memories for Theo. So, he just smiled and waved it off. “Really no big deal.”
Before the conversation could carry on, Quinn and Joe walked up.
“How y’all doing?” the sheriff asked.
All the guys told him they were fine.
“Y’all mind if we borrow the bull rider for a minute? Me and the mayor have a question we’re dying to ask,” the sheriff said.
Slater’s curiosity was piqued. He was about to ask what was up, but realized he’d have his answer in just a few moments.
“You bet,” Clyde said. “I need another beer, anyway.”
“Same,” Theo said. “I’ll tag along with you. Might be a good time for us to go check in on the Littles.”
The two men walked away, leaving Slater there with Jackson and now the sheriff and Joe.
Slater held up his hands as if surrendering. “Let me guess—I’m under arrest for being too damn sexy. You have to take me off the streets.”
Quinn laughed. “Dream on, buddy.”
Joe took the lead on the conversation. “We were just talking about our favorite Slater and Jackson memory.”
“Oh yeah?” Slater said with an arched eyebrow. He reached out and playfully hit Jackson in the chest. “I bet it was when we stopped Rampage just the other day.”
Jackson chuckled and took a pull from his beer.
“Nope,” Joe said. “We were thinking about that family that came through here this past Christmas. Remember? Their car broke down right on Main Street as they were driving through town. They were on their way to Arkansas to visit family for the holidays.”
“That’s right,” Quinn chimed in with a nod. “It was evident they didn’t have much. That old car they were driving was barely holding together. Three kids crammed in the back, and a mom and dad clearly down on their luck.” He smiled at Slater and then shifted his focus to Jackson. “That’s where our favorite memory comes in.”
Joe nodded. “You boys made sure that car got fixed. Wouldn’t dream of them paying for it. And you came to my store, bought the kids some toys, and made sure they had a good Christmas.”
Slater shifted on his feet and took a long pull from his beer. He noticed Jackson doing the same. He knew his friend well enough to know that he was just as uncomfortable.
“Oh, that wasn’t any big deal,” Slater said, moving his hand as if flicking away the idea Joe and Quinn were getting at. “If I’m not mistaken, several others, including you two, pitched in and we got those folks on their way and safely to Arkansas.”
“Yeah,” Joe said. “After you started it all.”
“What we’re trying to say,” Quinn said, “is that we know the type of men you two are. And if we were betting fellas, we’d wager a whole month’s salary that you’re back on the rodeo circuit to win the money to pay Big Cedar’s back taxes.”
Slater looked at Jackson and could read exactly what he was thinking. Both hated a fuss being made over them. But neither was any good at lying, either. They couldn’t outright deny what Quinn was saying, but they didn’t want to go into it all, either.
“I just took home a little prize money the other day,” Slater said. “Might win some more before it’s all said and done. Not sure what all I’ll do with it.”
This time it was Joe and Quinn who exchanged glances.
“We know you’ve been hurt before, Slater. And we don’t want to see you end up that way again,” Quinn told him. “Not on the account of Big Cedar.”
Joe nodded. “Quinn is right. The town will find a way. We just want you healthy. That’s all, friend.”
Slater felt a lump forming in his throat. It sure felt good to be part of such a caring community as Big Cedar. That’s why he couldn’t let it slip away. If it was possible, he’d save the town.
“I appreciate the concern,” he said. “I truly do. And I’ll keep that in mind.” He made a show of turning his bottle upside down to demonstrate it was empty. “I need another cold one.”
“Hell, yeah,” Jackson said with a laugh. “Some of that Colorado Kool-Aid as it’s called.”
The other men chuckled. They all walked toward the ice chest, the conversation seemingly over. For now. It would most likely come back up, he knew, as Quinn and Joe weren’t the type of guys to let things go—especially when they were concerned about a friend.
But Slater would just have to worry about that if and when the time came. Right now, he just needed to focus on the next rodeo. Because it was coming up in just two days.
It was almost time to head to Fort Smith and hop on the back of another bull.